There's no friendly way to put a lot of what Yoongi's thinking, either. Maybe it was easier before, when there was still so much distance and so many questions between the two of them, when he could let himself believe that his feelings were likely obviously one-sided. But he can't not notice the shy, pleased smile that tugs at the corner of Jungkook's lips at the promise of his return. And he can't stop remembering how Jungkook confirmed he's never made art for anyone else besides Yoongi. And he definitely can't help this feeling that underneath the politeness, and the sweetness, and the genuine friendship they've shared for all these months, there is something even bigger burning within the boy, the same ache reflected in his own chest. So many times Yoongi could sense it, even in the smallest of actions, in the messages. And so many times he didn't say anything.

"Or." The word stops short just as Yoongi's heart pounds something fierce, racing a bit too fast. No friendly way to put it. Suddenly the thought of coming back and reliving this exact same day with Jungkook--exercising the exact same restraint, swallowing the exact same desire--feels suffocating to him. Of course he wants to see Jungkook. He'll make time for it. He'll always want to make time for Jungkook. He just wants so much more than that and god, fuck it. "Or," Yoongi tries again, somehow keeping his voice calm, "I can come back and spend the whole day kissing you instead."